


The Last Good Thing about This Part of Town

by aesthetic_boy



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, M/M, mildly angsty, sorry i've been inactive so long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 03:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12050655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesthetic_boy/pseuds/aesthetic_boy
Summary: AU where being gay is still illegal in Illinois. Pete and Patrick are trying to find a way around it.





	The Last Good Thing about This Part of Town

**Author's Note:**

> This fic took waaay too long to write, because I researched everything… Illinois was actually the first state to legalise being gay, so this is basically reversed. I'm not sure what I'll write next, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to comment!

_Patrick stared at him. "You. You're gay. And. You like me?" Patrick said, staring at Pete._

_"Yep." Pete ran a hand through his hair, waiting to be told how_ wrong _and_ sinful _it was, the same words he heard every week at church. Except this time, it would hurt more, because it would be coming from his best friend._

_"Pete," Patrick replied slowly, "I like you as well."_

_Pete frowned. "You- you did know what I meant by 'like', right?" He asked, not daring to let himself hope._

_"If you mean, you know, more than friends? Then, yeah."_

_Pete paused, before stepping forward so he and Patrick were standing chest-to-chest._ I'm going to do this. I am going to kiss a boy. _But Patrick stepped away, shaking his head. "We can't- not here. If someone sees…" Patrick trailed off. "You know what they'll do."_

_Pete sighed. "Yeah, I know." Pause. "I'll think of something."_

"This is a stupid idea," Patrick told him, closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall.

"Why, you got a better one?" Pete replied. He moved over so he was pressed against Patrick, who glared at him. "Physical contact isn't _inherently_ gay. If anyone saw us- which they wouldn't, we're in your room- they couldn't arrest us."

Patrick paused, before nodding. "Yeah. I know. And there isn't really another way, is there?"

 _We could just do what other gay people in this state do and keep it a secret_ , Pete thought, but didn't say it.

It had been two months- two months since he gave up and admitted to Patrick that he was gay and liked Patrick, prepared to lose a friend at best and end up in jail at worst. Two months was a long time to spend knowing that you could be dating the person you liked. _Could._ If it wasn't for stupid laws and Patrick's refusal to break them- which was fair enough, nobody wanted to go to jail- but in all the time he'd liked boys he'd never found someone who felt the same way.

"So, we book the train tickets, then? That's it?" Patrick chewed on his lip.

"Yeah. Leave early in the morning, stay until late. Stay out of this hellhole for as long as we can.”

"What would we tell our parents?"

"Say we're with Joe. He couldn't give a shit, he'll cover for us." This was true. What Joe's reaction would be if he knew that they were going to the next state over so they could kiss without getting arrested was another matter entirely, but he wouldn't ask questions.

"I'm not sure…" Patrick drummed his fingers on the floor by his leg. "I mean, it's the only chance we have of… well, anything, but if someone finds out, then what?"

"We have to take the chance, I guess."

Patrick sighed, before leaning into Pete. This surprised him- Patrick didn't normally do anything that could be interpreted as affection, but today was made up of deciding to do things that they wouldn't normally do. Pete took Patrick's hand for a second and squeezed it briefly. He could tell by the way Patrick pulled away as soon as he let go that it had been too much. When Patrick got up from the floor next to him a few minutes later (why had they been sitting there anyway?), Pete tried to tell himself that it wasn’t related to that tiny level of affection. That they’d get to Wisconsin and affection would be easy and Pete could say the four-letter word he’d been holding back from saying all this time.

So, when Patrick hugged him goodbye, Pete held on for that extra second he knew Patrick would give him, pressing his face into the shorter boy’s shoulder. Because this was as close as he was getting to anything for now.

As Patrick reached the door to Pete’s room, he stopped and turned around. “Pete?”

“Yeah?”

Patrick offered him a small smile. “Remember to book the tickets. And text me,” He added.

***

An hour later, Pete was staring at the Amtrak booking page with all his card details entered. He’d picked most of the black polish from his nails at some point, he noticed. _Why am I so nervous_? As much as Pete liked to push the rules at school, this was a whole new level- if anyone from their state saw them being affectionate, as soon as they got back, everything would go to shit. But if they didn’t go, he’d never get to kiss Patrick. Never get to cuddle him or hold his hand as they walked down the street. _Okay, fuck the law_.

He hit ‘book’.

Pete: _hey i did it. we’re going in 2 weeks as planned_

Patrick: _so this is actually happening then_

Pete: _i mean that’s the plan_

Patrick: _i have a calc test tomorrow and i haven’t revised_

Pete: _same but i’m already failing, i can’t really save my grade at this point_

Patrick: _failing your senior year math class would suck, go revise_

Their conversation carried on in the same vein as Pete half-heartedly studied for the test that was currently the least of his concerns, whilst simultaneously browsing the internet for stupid memes to send to Patrick.

In other words, a standard Tuesday evening. Keeping everything the same, like nothing was happening, was going to be something Pete was very good at by the end of all this.

***

The next two weeks seemed to pass incredibly slowly. It was less like the cliché of a day feeling like a week, and more like Pete became acutely aware of _just how fucking long_ a week actually was.

Every lecture in Health or sermon at church about the ‘sinfulness of homosexuality’ seemed to take on a new meaning as Pete sat counting the days until he’d get away from all this hate, even if it was just for one day and a night. Even the snide comments at school- each muttered “faggot” as he walked down the hall made him paranoid that everyone knew, that as soon as he and Patrick tried to leave someone would stop them. But then he reminded himself that people always said these things to him because of his long fringe and eyeliner and bitten-down polished nails. This was normal. _It would be more worrying if they stopped saying anything_ , Pete thought.

A week before, he told his mom that he was going to Joe’s for the entire day on Saturday, doing some class project. He had no idea what he would do if her response was ‘no’, but thankfully- for some unknown reason- his mom trusted Joe. Probably because Joe was a talented liar, or because the talk of his massive parties never reached the ears of parents.

As soon as he’d finished talking to his mom, Pete ran up to his room to call Joe.

“Hey,” Joe said.

“Hi. Can you do me a favour?”

“I’m pretty sure I owe you from some point, so go on.”

“If my mom calls next Saturday, we’re doing a project for music but I can’t get to the phone tight now,” Pete told him.

“Alright. Got it. Do I get an explanation?” Joe asked, though by the tone of his voice Pete could tell that he didn’t really care.

“No.”

“Have fun with whatever it is. Or whoever.” Pete could imagine Joe smirking as he said it.

“Thanks. Bye.” Pete ended the call and stared at the phone in his hand.

All these arrangements he was making… what if something went wrong? Or if they arrived in Milwaukee and found out that Patrick didn't like him anymore? Whenever Pete thought about what they were going to do, he found himself doubting everything. He knew he should just hope everything would go right and trust that it would, but he couldn't help it.

He'd do that English essay. Try and distract himself from everything that could go wrong. It was too late, anyway.

***

It was eight a.m. and Pete was standing outside Union Station, drinking coffee from the Starbucks across the road in a vain attempt to try and stay awake. He kept checking his phone- Patrick should be here by now- and pinching himself on the arm to stop himself from zoning out. He was used to sleeping in until midday at the weekend and was now more firmly entrenched than before in his belief that ‘morning people’ were made up by adults to try and persuade kids to try and get up early and do their homework.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice Patrick. “Hey.” Patrick smiled at him. “Daydreaming?”

“More like sleeping standing up,” Pete said. “C’mon, let’s go.”

There weren’t many people in the station, and the few that were all seemed to be older than them. Pete wanted to hang onto Patrick’s hand, in that stereotypical-teen-movie sort of way. “Only a few more hours,” Pete muttered- more to himself than anything, but Patrick replied with a quiet ‘yeah’. He was excited, Pete could tell, from the way he was smiling to himself and looking around.

The journey was boring- Patrick stared out of the window while Pete scrolled through various social media apps. After about an hour, Patrick nudged him. “Pete.”

“Yeah?”

They were pulling up at a station. Patrick pointed at the sign. “We’re out of Illinois.”

Pete stared at Patrick for a second before grinning. Patrick smiled back, a little nervously. Pete allowed himself to lean into Patrick a little- the carriage was mostly empty, but there were still a few people here who were probably from their state, and he didn’t want to start shit.

After one more stop, they reached Milwaukee. They stepped off the train to find that the station was packed full of people. Pete grabbed Patrick’s hand to stop him from getting lost in the crowd. When Patrick didn’t let go after a few seconds, Pete looked around. Nobody was staring. Nobody seemed to _care_. Their bodies were pressed together as people pushed past to get on the train to go into Chicago. It all seemed so normal- but a weird sort of normal, like a remix of a song you'd listened to a thousand times before.

Outside the station, there was a group of people standing at a small table, under a banner which read, 'Supreme Court: Legalise Homosexuality'. One of the women wordlessly handed him a sticker with a pink triangle on and Pete realised that he was still holding Patrick's hand. Pete mumbled a 'thanks' and they continued walking.

"You'll have to get rid of that," Patrick pointed out.

Pete sighed. "I guess." He slipped it into his jacket pocket. "Later."

***

They walked around the city for a while, before finding a diner to eat lunch in. Pete spent the whole time trying to get Patrick to blush (which wasn't difficult). Patrick looked a little uncomfortable at first and Pete was ready to drop it, but then Patrick smiled at him and started flirting back. And when Pete offered to pay and Patrick refused because 'I never paid you back for my ticket', Pete realised what this was- it was a _date_.

They walked over to the park, arms around each other's waists, and Pete pointed it out to Patrick.

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"You know what people normally do after a date?"

Patrick flushed. Pete was thinking _I fucked it up again_ when Patrick stopped suddenly and turned to face Pete. "I…" Patrick trailed off. He leaned in and kissed Pete.

It wasn't how Pete had imagined their first kiss would be at all- he hadn't thought that Patrick would initiate it, or that it would be in a place so public, or that it would have been after a day being publicly a couple. Yet it was still perfect.

Patrick pulled away. They just stared at each other for a second. Pete said quietly, "Is the first date too early to say 'I love you'?"

"I don't think so." Patrick smiled at him. "And I love you, too. Of course."


End file.
